


The Whole World Goes Silent

by oh_heccity



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Based on a Cavetown Song, Panic Attacks, Song fic, gen-z humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 06:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15944015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_heccity/pseuds/oh_heccity
Summary: Circling around the kitchen, why has nothing changed?It's a song fic where Peter 'wrote' a song (song is called Pigeon and is by Cavetown)Originally called 'Pigeon'





	The Whole World Goes Silent

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings -  
> \- A lot of curse words  
> \- Panic attacks  
> \- Sorta gore??

Peter always carried a leather bound notebook with his person, no matter where Peter went, the notebook went too. 

The notebook itself looked like it was falling apart at the seams, the spine of it cracking and slowly falling off. The notebook was stuffed full with spare papers that often fell out casing Peter to go in a small tizzy if anyone picked them up and looked at them for a moment. It had a variety of colored post-it notes sticking out of variring places on the paper. Some days people couldn’t even talk to Peter because he was so far engrossed in whatever he was writing and re-reading whatever was in the notebook. 

Of course Peter was very gifted child in the arts of science -any types of science to be honest-, being gifted in science was one two reasons -the other was mathematics-. Peter Parker was also gifted in musics (of course if he practiced well enough but he was always good at singing), only four people really only knew of this extra gift and that was his family but of course, no matter how morbid it may sound, they all passed away. In his mind, Peter knew that none of their deaths was his fault but there was a dark part of his brain always said that the deaths were his fault. That his singing was a curse. 

When Aunt May had passed away from getting hit by a speeding car, the first thing that Peter had dug out from his room was the exact same notebook that he had today though the only difference was it was completely blank and soon to be stuffed with old sheet music both from long dead composers, songs from pop music that Peter loved and of course unfinished original pieces that Peter may never finish. 

**\---**

_ Circling around the kitchen _

_ Why has nothing changed _

“What are you writing there kiddo?” Tony asked Peter who’s head had shot up at being caught writing. When Tony leaned over the kitchen island to see what his kid was writing, Peter quickly closed the notebook shocking Tony a little. “Ah, I see, it’s you’re little journal. Writing about all the ass you kicked and all the cute people you lo~ve?”

Peter’s face turned a bright shade of red at the accusation that Peter was gushing about his life in his notebook. “N-No! I’m just writing!”

Tony just scoffed, laughing slightly at Peter’s flushing face. “Now eat up kiddo, we’re gonna go tinker in the lab before everyone arrives to stay for a few weeks.” 

Peter stared at peanut butter and jelly sandwich that Tony had set infront of him. Staring at the sandwich a little while longer, Peter soon ducked his head down to write something down in his notebook before taking a bite of the sandwich, he had a song to write.

_ Feed cucumber sandwich to a pigeon _

_ Chipping nail varnish on guitar strings _

Tony watched Peter begin to furiously scribble something down into his notebook with a soft yet confused smile on his face. What could his kid be writing that required all his focus and be so secretive about it. 

Taking a sip of his now cold coffee he found Peter’s eyes looking at him with his eyebrows furrowed slightly and the tip of his tongue sticking out, it always did when the kid was deep in thought. “Penny for your thoughts kiddo? I can tell you’re deep in thought by the way your tongue sticks out,”

It was funny to watch Peter’s face turn another shade of red as he quickly pressed his lips tightly effectively hiding his tongue and cutting off his train of thought. “Sorry, I’m just thinking of what to write next for this. I think I have at least four lines down and I still have to finish another thing for this! I have no clue why I’m even writing this,” 

“You’ll figure it out Underoos, you’re a smart kid.” Tony said, leaning over on the island trying to take a closer look at what Peter was writing.

All that Tony saw was scratched out words and crossed out lines before Peter resting his forehead on it. “You keep saying that and -not to toot my own horn- I know that I’m smart I just  _ can’t  _ think how to finish this!” Peter said with an edge on his voice as he tugged on his hair. 

“Hey kid, deep breaths. You can take breaks when you get stuck in a rut,” Peter gave him a look that he could only read as ‘are-you-kidding-me?’. “Alrighty, I know that I don’t follow my own words of advice but you should follow them. You’re young and spry-”

“And you’re just an old man?” Peter asked with a cheeky smile plastered onto his face, his previous stress seemingly gone.

Tony let out an offended gasp at the light joke. “Friday, don’t let Peter into my lab anymore until he’s sorry.” 

“I’m afraid that I can not do that Sir. The day that Mr. Parker came to the tower to update his Spider-Man suit you said that Mr. Parker is allowed in your lab no matter what circumstances.” Friday said in her usual calming voice making Peter smile brightly and Tony to make another gasp of fake offense. 

Watching Tony and Friday interact with such a carefree nature made Peter smile even more; getting an idea for the next few lines Peter quickly jotted them down. He would figure out how the end result will be. 

_ Got a pillow case made out of money _

_ Feeling pretty fake when I wake up _

_ Tissue paper castle paper caddy _

_ Scaly little friend’s got my backup _

“Mr. Stark! Can we head down to the lab now?” Peter asked, tucking his notebook close to his chest as he stood up, stumbling abit making Tony laugh.

“Sure thing kiddo, only stop calling Mr. Stark. I’m your legal guardian now.” Tony said as he ruffled Peter’s hair who smiled softly though he felt a small pang of sadness stab his heart.

**\---**

“Sir and Mr. Parker, everyone is waiting for you in the dining room with dinner. It appears that they brought Thai.” Friday spoke up, breaking through the two’s joyous laughter seeing a haphazardly mixed chemicals concoction that they made for fun explode getting soot everywhere on their exposed skin.

“Now we can never let Pepper or Bruce know that we made an explosion for fun. Alright?” Tony held out his pinky for Peter to link with his own. 

“I promise.” Peter linked his pinky with the eldest Stark. “But you make explosions for fun all the time! And you  _ never _ get chewed out by Pepper and Bruce!”

“That’s what they want you to think Underoos.” Tony said with a cheeky smirk. “Now come on, let's go eat some good ol’ Thai food,” 

“Don’t we need to go wash up?” Peter asked, grabbing his notebook from a shelf, safe from any messes that would come its way. 

“Nah its fine. Just go wash your hands unless you want Steve in a tizzy about having dirty hands.” Tony said, already wiping his hands off on a rag that smelt like oil from where Peter was standing.    
  
“What about our faces, you have a big patch were no soot is.” Peter pointed out as he washed his hands free of soot. 

“You have one too kiddo and no, you don’t need too. I’ve come to diner more than what I can count on my fingers with soot on my face. Plus, if you’re so worried about getting someone upset with a messy face, just play it off you’re hungry and forgot to wash up. Plus, everyone loves you, you’ll get off scotch free!” 

“Alright!” Peter cheered, already half out of the lab. “I’ll race you down to diner! Winner gets the Pad Kee Mao!” 

Before Tony could even reply to Peters childish jests, the kid was already out of the door and down the hall. 

When Tony finally came down stairs to the dining room he was greeted with Peter already sitting down on the sofa holding the takeout box close to his chest with his notebook also tucked close to him. 

“I win Mr. Stark!” Peter cheered out drawing a few eyes on his character. “I get your Pad Kee Mao!” 

“Tony why are you covered in soot? Go wash up!” Steve cried after taking Tony’s soot covered face in. “You don’t get food until you do wash up!”

“What?! Peter’s also covered in soot! Why didn’t have to go wash up?” Tony pointed at Peter who smiled into his own food. 

“I don’t get soot everywhere I walk Mr. Stark; I only  _ accidently _ get blood everywhere.” Peter said under his breath resulting in Natasha to lightly smack him upside the head. “Hey!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll go wash up. Underoos go pick out a movie for tonight; I don’t trust anyone else to pick out a movie and make it good kid!” Tony said as he walked into the kitchen to clean his face off. “Don’t forget to wash your own face tonight.”

Peter grumbled a response as he jumped out to go through Tony’s movies to choose from. 

“Hey Peter, what’s in this notebook of yours?” Clint asked, picking up Peter’s notebook to sit down where he was previously sitting. 

Peter’s head shot up at the mention of his notebook, “Please don’t open it; it’s very private. I’ll maybe tell you what’s in there in the future, just-just not now,” 

Everyone looked at Peter’s form and back at the book, giving Peter quizzical looks before Peter spoke up again. “The movie is in now scoot over Clint I wanna sit down and you’re sitting on my blanket.” 

Clint had grumbled about moving but did so just so Peter could get his blanket. “Go make your own web hammock web-head.” Clint said as he stuck out his tongue childishly at Peter who did the same, webbing Clint’s feet together before making himself a hammock on the ceiling. 

“Mr. Stark-” Peter dragged out the ‘k’ in Tony’s name. “Clint’s being a meanie!”

Clint gave Peter an offended gasp but before it became too much Natasha spoke up. “Can you two please shut up? I would like to watch the movie!”

**\---**

It was the fourth time this week that Peter stayed awake throughout the night. God he wished that he could just fucking  _ sleep _ , it’s not like he’s staying awake in spite of Mr. Stark (it was only when they were in the lab and Mr. Stark himself wouldn’t go to sleep). When ever Peter would just close his eyes, it was the same thing over and over again; or rather it was the same  _ things  _ over and over again.

_ Toomes standing before him as he went over his evil villain monologue _

_ The horrifying creak of the support of the werehouse creaking  _

_ Crash of all the concrete and steel falling on top of Peter’s back _

_ He didn’t have his suit, he was going to die _

_ He deserved this though, he almost killed hundreds of people at the ferry _

_ Mr. Stark was so disappointed.  _

Peter shook his head rapidly trying to rid those thoughts from his mind, the event on homecoming night happened months ago, four to be exact, so why couldn’t he get over it? It was so fucking stupid to wake up from nightmares of being crushed.

If he wasn’t thinking about the Vulture, he was thinking about May’s death; it was an avoidable death to be exact- all he had to do was push her out of the way of the oncoming truck. The police dubbed it as a hit and run.

It was awful, the first thing he did was call out May’s name as he watched her skid across the road. He could hear her bones snap on impact and her heart just slowly begin to stop.

_ “Aunt May!” Peter cried out as he watched May’s body skidded across the street, everything in Peter’s world coming to harsh stop.  _

_ “Aunt May please wake up, May please don’t leave me.” Peter sobbed as he cradled her head in his lap not minding the blood that was becoming sticky on his hands and clothes. Even if it was no use of telling her to stay awake and that she was going to be okay, that she was going to  _ live _ he wanted to make an illusion to both Aunt May and himself that everything was going to be okay. That the ambulance was going to take her away and  _ somehow _ make her better.  _

_ “P-Peter,” Aunt May choked out gaining Peter’s attention who could barely see through the tears. “I-I love you, like- like you were my own son. Please, never stop writing music, never stop your passion.” _

_ Peter could only nod, wiping away May’s tears and his own as they fell on her face. Feeling May’s heartbeat slowly come to stop, her body becoming cold.  _

_ God another person lost all because he could sing; he was actually starting to think he was cursed _

When Peter jolted to the present, he noticed how the ink on his page and the page itself became wet with tears and the ink became a little smeared but still able to be read. 

“Shit-” Peter mumbled as he wiped his eyes, desperate to get rid of the tears. 

Even before he noticed his hand moving and writing something down on the tear stained page, being careful to not tear the wet page or smear the ink any further. 

_ Didn’t give me the time to say goodbye in the way that I wanted to _

_ So honey close your eyes and stay like you’re supposed to do _

_ Don’t you wanna give me time to write another song for you? _

After he finished writing, Peter felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore, his loose shirt feeling far too tight around his torso,  _ too tight, too tight, he was being crushed again. He was finally going to die _ .

“Peter your heart rate seems to be elevated. It appears that you are having a panic attack, would you like me to notify anyone?” FRIDAYs voice echoed through his panic filled mind. “No one appears to be awake at the moment but I can wake up them up for you.”

Peter shook his head as a sign of ‘no’, if no one was awake FRIDAY shouldn’t wake them up just for Peter’s stupid panic attack. “N-No thank you. Jus-just please take me to my room and th-then the roof.” 

“Very well Peter, but if your heart rate gets any higher I’ll have to call someone to help you.” Peter took a sharp intake of breath. “If it does come to that, who would you like to come and help?”

Peter stayed silent, not answering FRIDAYs question as he made his way to the elevator, taking comfort in the soft whirring of the elevator. “Peter, before I let you on the roof I need your answer. I do not want you getting hurt while you are up there or passing out.” 

Peter huffed slightly after taking a few deep breaths, “Jus- Just tell Mr. Stark if it-it comes down to it.”

“Very well Peter. I have made note of your request, we have arrived at your room.” FRIDAY said as she let the elevator doors open showing Peter’s organized mess. Crumpled up papers, musical instruments all over the wall and the bed not made but all his books where put away neatly on his bookshelf.

“Thank- thank you FRIDAY,” Peter mumbled as he blindly reached for the ukulele that was resting at the foot of his bed. If he was going to be going on the roof he was going to need his special glasses and earbuds that Mr. Stark had made for him if he ever happens to have a sensory overload. 

“P-please take me to the roof FRIDAY.” Peter said after gathering his things and then a blanket; it got cold up on the roof with the wind.

“Of course Peter, please stay safe though and remember if your heart rate goes up any higher I will call Sir to come up and help you.” FRIDAY said, her calming accented voice helping him calm down a little bit. 

Peter hummed in response as he walked down out of the elevator and sat down on the ledge of the roof, letting his feet dangle down as he took a few deep breaths to calm down. ‘Come on Peter, you gotta calm down. You can’t wake Mr. Stark over stupid things like this.’ Peter thought to himself as he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, his hands fumbling to put on the glasses and earbuds. 

 

Peter took another shuddering breath, feeling much calmer now that he couldn’t hear the harsh noises and the harsh lights coming from below. It was just like before he got bit by that spider a few years back. 

 

After a few minutes of calming breaths and another few minutes to get rid of the feeling of impending nasua that bubbled up Peter’s throat. “Ca-calm down Parker, your fine. Just fucking  _ calm _ down!” 

 

Peter stayed with his hands buried in his hair for another few moments as he willed his hands to stop shaking. “Peter, your heart rate is dangerously close to passing out. I recommend you going through a few breathing exercises before I call Sir to come up to help you.”

 

“P-please don’t he needs the sleep. Ju-just take me through the breathing exercises, pl-please.” Peter said pitifully.

 

“Of course, if your heart rate isn’t a bit normal after this I’m calling Sir. Now, what are five things that you can see?” FRIDAY said.

 

“U-uh, my blanket, the-the stars, my ukulele, my w-watch, a street- a streetlight.” 

 

“Good, what are four things you can hear?” 

 

“C-cars honking, a p-plane overhead, yo-your voice a-and my breathing.”

“You’re doing good Peter, can you tell me three things you can touch?”

“M-my blanket again, th-the roof, and my glasses.” 

“You’re almost done, please tell me what you can two things you can smell.”

“G-gas from a car and s-sweat.”

“Just one more and then you’re done, you just need to tell me what you can taste.”

“B-blood,” Peter mumbled, he must of bit his tongue in the midst of his panic.

“Your heart rate seems to be back to normal though would you still like me to call Sir or at least lead you down to room so that you can rest?” Friday asked calmly as Peter shook his head vigorously, hoping that she would be able to see it and Peter didn’t have a doubt that she could. Mr. Stark but security cameras almost everywhere and anywhere. 

“No-no thank you, I-I think I’m just going to stay up here and play a little bit. You’re welcome to stay and listen if-if you can.” Peter said picking up his ukelele with his shaking hands, strumming a few chords before getting a feel of the strings and tuning it. 

“I would stay to watch over you but I’ll also stay to listen to you play. Would you like me to record it for everyone else to listen to it on a later date?” FRIDAY asked kindly, of course she didn’t know of Peter’s fear of other people hear him play.

“Please don’t record it!” Peter cried out, “Just listen to me play if you would want to.”

Peter didn’t hear a response from FRIDAY so he took it as a sign to go ahead and play for her. Taking a hesitant strum to the ukulele, Peter looked around just in case if someone heard him play, he didn’t want anyone to die because they heard him play. 

After gaining a little bit more confidence Peter felt a small smile grace upon his face as he felt his hand move faster, the music that he was playing becoming more and more upbeat as he played. God it felt good to play music. 

**\---**

“Has anyone seen the Man of Spiders?” Thor asked in his normal booming voice, slamming the cupboards looking for pop tarts that Tony had ordered a few days ago. 

“Friday?”

“Peter is currently asleep on the roof,” Friday replied. “He had a panic attack early this morning as requested me to take him to the roof.

“Good morning,” Peter mumbled as the elevator opened revealing Peter with a comforter wrapped around him and his glasses on. 

“Good morning kid,” Tony said as he watch Peter shuffle into the kitchen and rested his head on the island table where the rest of them were sitting. “Face off the table and why the hell were you on the roof?”

“I would like to say, no comment.” Peter’s muffled voice answer though he made no move to remove his face off the table. 

“I’ll pull up the security footage from this morning.” Tony threatened lightly. Of course he would pull it up but not in front of the others, the kid looked like death himself.

“Not if I already hacked into FRIDAY.” Peter said cheekily.

“FRIDAY, playback the footage from 3 am.” Tony looked up at the ceiling.

“Sorry sir, I can not do that per Peter’s request.” 

“What the absolute fuck. Kid, you did not hack into my military grade AI.” 

“I didn’t hack into her, yet, but I did ask her not to tell you what happened cause she’s a good  _ friend _ .” Peter mumbled, now resting his chin on the table, wrapping the blankets around tighter. 

“Language Tony,” Steve said into his coffee mug. 

“Shut up Rogers what I’m more interested is how FRIDAY actually listened to Peter.” Clint said once he stopped coughing at hearing what Peter managed to do.

Peter groaned, he should’ve never had gone to the roof that night. “I just asked jesus,”

“I didn’t know that you knew Jesus underoos,” Tony said with a teasing smile making Peter groan loudly. 

“I’m going to go scream into my pillow now because of you. Good bye.” 

“Don’t forget that T’challa and his sister are flying over today. They should be here around noon,” Tony called after the kid who was walking out of the kitchen who gave Tony an okay sign with his hands. 

“I’ll be in my room either hacking into the Octagon again or crying. Maybe today I’ll do both but you’ll never know.” 

**\---**

“Peter,” Peter looked up at his ceiling from his computer where he was trying to figure out how he could put his ukulele into the song he has been writing. “T’challa and princess Shuri have arrived and currently are waiting in the common room along with everyone else,” 

Peter nodded as if FRIDAY could actually see him though maybe she could see him. “Alright, I’ll be down there in a second- just let me save this. Oh and FRIDAY? Thanks for covering for me earlier and thanks for the help through the panic attack. I really do owe you one.”

“It was my pleasure Peter and I might add that your musical talents are wonderful.”

Peter felt the tips of his ears turn a bright shade of red at the praise. “Thanks FRIDAY,”

“No problem Peter now go along, Princess Shuri is quite excited to meet you.”

“Ah sweet, I’ve been excited to meet her too despite me not knowing she’ll come until two hours ago,” Peter spoke to the ceiling as he walked to the common room still wrapped in the heavy blanket from this morning. What could he say? Spiders couldn’t retain body heat so his body temperature was much colder than a normal humans so he always made sure to keep warm clothes on and his room was always warmer than the rest of the building. Curse the normally genetic humans. 

Would Peter tell Mr. Stark and the others about how the spider DNA messed up with  _ everything _ of course not. He rather not make them worry about how much he was eating every waking moment and other things that spiders needed to do.

Now that Peter thinks about it, his room was covered in a lot of web residue and web hammocks on the ceiling. What could he say? He liked being on the ceiling, spider DNA always comes up at the weirdest times. 

“Hey Peter, glad to see you out of the cave you call your room.” Tony called from the sofa when he noticed a Peter-sized blanket lump walk into the common room where everyone was sitting along with two other people he didn’t know. He assumed it was T’challa and his sister.

“Just cause there are cobwebs in it doesn’t mean that it’s a cave. Last time I checked there wasn’t any stalagmites so I think I’m good.” Peter mumbled as he sat on the floor, bringing the blanket closer to his body. 

“Aren’t you warm there white boy?” A female voice spoke up and Peter turned to look at the person to find Shuri. 

“I’m cold, leave me alone. I’m heading back to my room- crying got in the way of hacking into the Octagon.” Peter got up but was dragged back down by a strong hand. 

“Peter it’s illegal for hacking into the Octagon,”

“So is being a vigilante and I haven’t been shot down just yet.” Peter mumbled tugging the blanket away from the other person's hand. They were letting a draft in which meant he was getting cold. “I mean which sucks. I wear a bright red suit and no one has shot me in the head.”

“Oh my god, a mood.” The princess said under her breath that only Peter could pick up- maybe Mr. Rogers could hear it as well but he just didn’t understand it.

Peter’s head shot up at the words. “Holy shit-” Peter ignored everyone yelling at him for his language. “You know what I’m talking about?”

“Of course I do white boy,”

“This is fucking  _ great _ ! I’m so lonely cause none of these old fuddy duddies know what I’m talking abou!” Peter jumped up, his blanket falling off of his shoulders. “This is so  _ great _ !”

“Wait, you mentioned how you were a vigilant in a bright red suit.  _ You’re _ Spiderman?” Shuri exclaimed also standing up and now pointing at Peter who was smiling.

“I thought that I made that obvious-”

“That means you were at Germany with my brother! So how did you take down Captain America?” 

A smile grew on his face, Ned had said the same thing when he had found out that he was Spiderman and that he had taken down Captain America. “I shot him in zee legs cause his shield iz the of a dinner plate. And he’z an idiot.”

Shuri’s smile grew bigger at the reference. “Brother, I would die for this white boy.” 

“Not if I die first,” Peter mumbled getting a laugh from Shuri. 

**\---**

It was a rainy day when Peter decided to go visit May’s grave. He found it fitting that the sky was crying; just like how he was. Peter knew that he could always just  _ not _ go to her grave but he found it disrespectful. Plus, he wanted to visit Uncle Ben’s grave- it’s been awhile since he had. 

 

“Hey Aunt May and Uncle Ben. Sorry that it’s been a while since that I last visited you guys.” Peter spoke in a broken voice as he crouched down, holding a solid black umbrella much like he did all those months ago. “I’ve been writing a new song. I-I never gave up on my dream, just like you said Aunt May.” 

There was a beat of silence besides for the rain hitting his umbrella. “I’ve actually been writing it about you guys- mostly May but I don’t want to be biased on who’s my favourite.” Peter let out a choked laugh. “I’ll come back every few weeks for updates on how it’s going. And who knows, maybe one day I’ll actually publish it.” 

Another beat of silence and Peter just took a seat on the wet ground, it didn’t matter if his pants got wet from the water soaked ground. Right now, as emotionally unstable as he was, he just wanted to bask in the silence of the the rain. It was much quieter than it was outside of the graveyard. Peter would like to think that the whole of New York knew that people would be mourning here so they decided to be nice for once. Even if that wasn’t true,

_ Fuzzy feeling and I miss you  _

_ Why can nothing stay the same  _

_ Fucking stupid head i’m gonna kill you _

Peter sat in the rain for a while just thinking about everything he could of saved Uncle Ben and Aunt May but then he would’ve outed himself as Spiderman but then that thought made him think how they would still be alive. They would of got over the fact that their child was a mutant freak with spider DNA, right?

_ Melt all your art and drink the paint  _

_ I am not a beast I’m not a monster  _

_ I don't care what you say _

Right?

**\---**

The next time that Peter had pulled out his notebook was when he was out being Spiderman. The night was slow, just helping a few tourists navigate the big streets of New York city and take a few selfies and a back flip for a few fans. 

Nonetheless it was a quiet night and that gave Peter a chance to write some more. His spidey senses and hearing will pick up something that happens. 

_ You can’t have the bad guys without a hero  _

_ And I’m the only one who’s got a cape  _

Peter didn’t really have a cape; none of the Avengers really had a cape except Vision but this song wasn’t about Vision so Vision and his yellow cape could suck it. 

“Good Peter that’s so passive aggressive,” Peter mumbled to himself at the previous thought. “Vision is a literal child, you can’t just tell him to suck it.” There was a moment of silence before Peter groaned. “I’m a fucking  _ mess _ .” 

_ Note to self: Peter is a fucking mess _ Peter wrote on his arm. The Avengers would most likely question what’s going on with him and why he wrote that on his hand. Steve would most likely yell at him for his language. But did Peter care? Absolutely. 

_ Didn’t give me time to say goodbye in the way that I wanted to _

_ So honey close your eyes and stay like you’re supposed to _

**\---**

_ I don’t know how I’m gonna live without _

_ But I’ll stay strong for you _

Peter let out a heavy sigh as he closed his notebook, it was possibly 2 am but Peter wasn’t too sure. All that he knew is that everyone was asleep or so Peter hoped that everyone was but he knew that some people would have nightmares or just plain just couldn’t sleep. But if someone was awake they usually stayed in their room or somewhere in the different part of the tower so Peter would be fine to work out the music. Not to mention he was in his room and no one really bothered him.

Peter stared at his desk before grabbing his ukeulele. Time to figure out the chords, fucking great. 

Not to mention that he needed to find out the beat and tempo of the song. And Peter didn’t have drums in his room so he’d have to go to a music store to see if he could use the drum set to finish it. 

Time to get to work 

**\---**

“Hey Aunt May and Uncle Ben. It’s been a hot minute since I last visted you guys- sorry about that by the way, but I finally finished the song I told you about a few weeks ago. I know that I promised that I would come by to give you updates on how it’s been going but I guess that I broke that,” Peter let out a sheepish chuckle as he pulled out his ukulele and phone where he had recorded the tempo. 

“ _ Circling around the kitchen, why has nothing changed _ -” Peter started to sing, the whole world seemed to go silent besides for Peter’s voice and the music. The whole world just went silent just so that Peter could sing to his family; that was nice of them Peter thought to himself with a smile. 

When Peter finished the song, he could of sworn that a gust of wind said ‘thank you’ in it’s whispy voice. 


End file.
